


The Noble Thing

by tisziny



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Minor AU, episode add on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 17:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2356703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisziny/pseuds/tisziny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack paused and turned and Phryne, dressed in her fine robe and only step-in drawers beneath, followed him out, letting her front door close behind her. She leant back against it, watching him carefully as he opened and closed his mouth.</p>
<p>“Are you just going to kiss me with no explanation?” she asked carefully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Noble Thing

“She needed you,” Phryne murmured softly, “Jack Robinson; the man who always does the right thing. The noble thing.”

 

He looked her straight in the eye for a moment, and Phryne had barely a second left to continue her silent pondering of the Inspector’s sudden appearance at her house before he spoke and took a short step forward.

 

“Not always, Miss Fisher.”

 

And then his hand was at her waist, holding her carefully with a light but steady touch, as though she might break beneath his fingers. She stepped forward and they met in the middle, his head ducking down as her titled up and their lips brushed together so softly Phryne couldn’t be sure if it was Jack Robinson at her lips or a ghost. Before she could find out the man in question jumped back, spooked by a voice from the next room.

 

Phryne’s aunt stepped through an open door, a mug of cocoa in hand. She peered at Jack from tired eyes and frowned.

 

“It’s very late, Inspector,” she stated.

 

“Yes, yes it is.” Jack agreed, holding back the flood of emotions threatening to break through him. With great effort he turned to face Phryne, trying not to dread what might be written across her face. “But I’m glad we cleared up that detail, Miss Fisher.”

 

She nodded quickly, “So am I Jack,” she reassured him, “so am I.”

 

She bit back a smile, but watched him go as he stepped between Phryne and her aunt to the door. It was only when the baby stirred in the parlour that Aunt Prudence removed her watchful eye from her niece and stepped away.

 

From the door Jack offered Phryne the merest twitch of a smile.

 

“Until our next murder investigation, then,” She murmured.

 

“I look forward to it.” Jack told her, and then realising what he’d said he continued, “The investigation, not the murder.”

 

They smiled.

 

Slowly Jack turned and opened the front door. Behind him Phryne peered around the corner after her aunt in the parlour, and seeing the woman fully preoccupied with a blanket bundled infant she stepped forward after the inspector.

 

“Jack?” She said, holding the door open as he stepped outside.

 

“Miss Fisher?”

 

Jack paused and turned and Phryne, dressed in her fine robe and only step-in drawers beneath, followed him out, letting her front door close behind her. She leant back against it, watching him carefully as he opened and closed his mouth.

 

“Are you just going to kiss me with no explanation?” she asked carefully.

 

“Phryne…”

 

“No I know, my aunt…” Phryne sighed, “Now’s not the time, but I do want to talk about this. I liked it Jack; I’ve wanted it. That. You, for so long and I… I want it again.”

 

“But now’s not the time,” Jack murmured,

 

“No.”

 

Pushing herself up from the door Phryne stepped close, lifting a hand to straighten Jack’s already straight tie.

 

“Tomorrow might be,”

 

Jack grinned, a proper bright grin that flashed his teeth and made Miss Fisher feel like her stomach had just turned to a warm furry cat, purring happily and chasing all the butterflies she seem to have swallowed.

 

“Tomorrow,” Jack nodded, and then he ducked down and kissed her again, taking her by surprise and her eyes widened, then closed slowly. She gripped at him, drowning in the sensation of his lips against hers, and then pulled regretfully away for air.

 

“Goodnight, Jack.”

 

He nodded, unable to contain his delighted smirk. “Phryne.”

 

And with that they both turned and walked away.

 

///

 

Tomorrow as it turned out was not the time to talk either, or as it happened the day after. In fact it wasn’t until three days had past that they saw each other again.

 

Armed raids, multiple arrests –including that of the now very much former Chief Commissioner- tended to lead to a lot of paper work, and if Jack wanted this case to reach the courts properly, he had to be certain it was all done correctly. Down to every dotted ‘I’ and crossed ‘T’.

 

And so that was what he was doing, when on the third day since his appearance at Miss Fisher’s house, the woman in question waltzed into his office with a basket in arm.

 

He looked up from the report he was rereading with some surprise at the all too familiar scent of French perfume that had entered the room with her. She smiled and walked over, plucking the report from his hand and laying it to one side, presenting him instead with the basket.

 

“Lunch,” she said, clearing a space on the edge of his desk and perching there. “I thought you might be hungry.”

 

“No ulterior motives?” Jack asked in amusement, investigating the food she’d brought him with a half hidden smirk.

 

“Of course not!” Phryne pushed herself to sit more steadily on his desk, “Unless of course, you have the time to discuss… things. While I’m here.”

 

She smiled at him innocently, but Jack rolled his eyes. “I’ve found myself to be extremely busy, Miss Fisher.”

 

“All the more reason for you to have a break! You can’t expect to be the best of yourself if you’ve worked solidly all day with an empty stomach. You need to come back to it with fresh perspective.”

 

Jack gave in, found himself a knife and fork wrapped in a napkin in the basket, and began to eat. After swallowing his first mouthful he looked up at Miss Fisher again.

 

“You wanted to discuss things?” he prompted, placing another forkful into his mouth and chewing.

 

“Yes.” She nodded at him, holding his eye carefully as she continued, “I wanted to tell you, if we are to start a, a relationship, well, I’d not be against that. In fact I’d be rather for it.”

 

Jack tilted his head, “A relationship?” he repeated.

 

“Yes. I know it may surprise you Jack, but not all my dalliances with men have been so… short lasting. And if we were to go down that road, I wouldn’t want it to be a temporary arrangement.”

 

She looked at him, her soul uncharacteristically bare and vulnerable as she laid out her heart before his ready hands. With her breath seemingly on hold she waited, watching Jack as he stared back at her calculatingly. After a long moment that felt to be at least twice as long as it actually was, he swallowed and opened his mouth to reply.

 

“I would not,” he said, “be able to do anything temporarily.”

 

“I would never treat it as such.”

 

Jack paused, watching her. Then, after another long drawn out moment, he nodded. “All right then, Miss Fisher.”

 

“Yes?” she murmured, her heart still trembling in her fingers as Jack put aside his meal to take her hands in his.

 

“Yes.”

 

She smiled and, feeling elated, Jack let himself smile too before he lent forward and one of his hands left hers to settle at her neck and pull her close for a kiss. The touch of her lips was exquisite and excitement bubbled through the both of them, neither able at this point to really believe this was happening.

 

As eventually, he pulled back, it was to see such happiness, and love reflected back at him in Phryne’s face. She kissed him again, quickly and sweetly, then pulled herself out of his reach and took hold of his lunch.

 

Settling back into his chair they turned to idle conversation, punctuated by Phryne feeding Jack forkfuls of his meal, or occasionally taking a bite for herself.

 

Half an hour passed easily and with lunch consumed and paper work waiting, Phryne made her leave.

 

“I don’t suppose you could be persuaded to an outing, Inspector? I know a rather marvellous French restaurant; I could make dinner reservations…?”

 

“I’m,” Jack cleared his throat, “I’m not sure I could afford that, Phryne.”

 

“Nonsense, just because you’re the man, Jack, does not mean you have to pay for everything. Not when I have perfectly capable means of doing so.”

 

He opened his mouth to argue, but at her careful look he wisely closed it again.

 

“If,” Phryne continued, “It bothers you, I suppose we could start instead with dinner at my house. I just thought that we have done that before so perhaps it might not be… right. Just yet.”

 

Jack nodded in understanding, “I appreciate your effort to make it special. But I think Mr Butler’s fine dining and your company in this new light will be right enough.”

 

Smiling at the compromise, Phryne nodded, slipping off his desk to her feet and packing up their shared lunch back into its basket. She waltzed easily across the room and paused at the door, turning back to say, “I will see you and half past six, Jack.”

 

“Goodbye, Miss Fisher.”

 

“Bye Jack,” and blowing him a kiss as easy as anything, she turned back and walked out of the door with a sashay of her hips.

 

///

 

When Jack arrived that evening at Miss Fisher’s residence, he knew he had made more of an effort than usual. He had changed his suit to a crisp sharply cut one he usually saved for formal events, he had taken a few cuttings of his best orchid from his small garden, he had even gone as far as to re-comb and style his hair into the slick part he preferred.

 

Waiting for a response as he stood on her doorstep, Jack shuffled his feet. He should not be this nervous.

 

Turning away from the house to let out a long breath of air Jack heard the door open behind him. He turned suddenly, and saw Mr Butler standing by the door with a kind smile.

 

“This way, Inspector.”

 

Jack took one last deep breath and stepped forward. The house was as welcoming as always, and Mr Butler took his hat and coat before directing him to the dining room.

 

Phryne sat at the table already, lit beautifully in candlelight as she sipped from a flute of champagne.

 

“The Inspector is here,” Mr Butler announced, and Phryne turned, her face lighting up in happy surprise as she saw Jack in the doorway.

 

“Jack!” she exclaimed, standing, “You’ve changed.”

 

“It seemed appropriate.” Jack told her,

 

“Yes, and oh, orchids. Mr Butler could you…” She took the flowers and turned to Mr Butler, who accepted the flowers from her with a courteous nod.

 

“I have an empty vase the kitchen, Miss.” He left, leaving Phryne and Jack alone.

 

“Thank you, Jack. They’re beautiful.”

 

Swallowing thickly and damning his own nervousness, Jack nodded, “You’re welcome.”

 

She smiled. “Come, sit.” She said, “Have some champagne. You look like you may need it.”

 

He nodded, but didn’t forget himself so far as to forget to pull out her chair for her, before sitting himself. She poured him a glass of Champagne and then held her own glass up in a toast.

 

“What are we toasting, Miss Fisher?” Jack asked,

 

“Second chances.”

 

He raised a questioning eyebrow but toasted with her all the same, sipping the fine sparkling liquid and lowering his glass back to the table.

 

“I’m glad you’re here, Jack.” Phryne said, quietly, smiling now rather shyly across the table.

 

Jack smiled, “Me too, Miss Fisher.”

 

Mr Butler returned then, with the orchids beautifully cut and displayed in an antique vase. He set it on the table and announced the first course was ready.

 

They ate mostly in silence to begin with, exchanging looks across the table until Phryne’s foot slid across the floor and the toes of her shoe began to brush gently against Jack’s ankle. He raised an eyebrow at her in question, and she smiled, letting her foot run higher, along the inspector’s leg.

 

He cleared his throat, readjusting in his seat and tucking both his legs under his chair. Phryne pouted at his warning glance, but brought her foot back to her side of the table never the less and sipped her champagne with smile of faux innocence.

 

Hoping to distract her Jack opened his mouth, “How is your aunt?” he said, asking after the first thing that came to mind.

 

Phryne just barely stopped herself from snorting, “Perfectly well,” she replied, “She’s thankfully taken Mary and the baby and returned home, so there’s no need to be nervous she might interrupt us if you wish to kiss me again.”

 

Jack flushed and the feeble attempt at conversation was dropped as they continued their meal.

 

Afterwards, both feeling pleasantly full, they moved to Phryne’s parlour. She poured them each a drink and sat down opposite where Jack was setting up a game of draughts. They played their way through three games before Jack caught sight of the time.

 

“It’s late,” he said, finishing his drink and setting down his glass, “I should go.”

 

He stood and Phryne stood with him, following him to her front door where he pulled on his coat.

 

“You could stay,” she murmured softly, stepping close and taking his hat from his hands,

 

He kissed her, softly, slowly, but then pulled away and reclaimed his hat, setting it on his head.

 

“I’m not sure that’s wise, Miss Fisher.”

 

Sighing slightly, but not at all surprised by the denial of her invitation, Phryne just shifted closer, her hands coming to rest on Jack’s chest and toy lightly with his waistcoat buttons.

 

“You’re going to have to start calling me Phryne, now that we’re…” she paused, and met his gaze significantly, “lovers.”

 

Jack almost blushed, but face straight and eyes not wavering from hers, he nodded. “Yes, of course,” he told her, “Phryne.”

 

She smiled.

 

“I will,” he grinned, “undoubtedly see you again soon.”

 

“Why of course, who else will ensure you enjoy your lunch.”

 

Smiling Jack grasped her hands and squeezed them before removing them from his chest and stepping back toward the door. “Good night,” he said, “Phryne.”

 

“Goodnight Jack.”

 

He dropped her hands and turned to open the door, but like a cat Phryne somehow slipped easily into the gap between him and the door, leaving little room between herself from him, his hand extended for the door handle now hovering in the air by her hip.

 

“Phryne,” he rumbled, and she smiled in impish innocence, blocking his attempts for the door handle as he rolled his eyes.

 

“Just one last kiss?” she asked,

 

Huffing but unable to prevent the amused grin from spreading across his face Jack lowered his face to hers. She kissed him easily, her arms winding around his neck as she melded her body into his. He groaned and the hand that had been at the door handle now splayed itself across the small of her back.

 

She moaned happily and after a long moment, pulled slowly back. “Now that was a kiss to remember,” she whispered.

 

Jack groaned.

 

With a laugh Phryne slipped from his grasp and opened her front door, “Goodnight, Inspector.”

 

“Goodnight, Miss-” he caught himself, “Phryne.”

 

Eyes lighting up in no doubt dangerous ideas, Phryne closed the door behind him and fell back against it. Oh, that man.

 

///

 

Jack had of course been right when he said he would see Phryne soon, as not two days later he found her at his crime scene. She was crouched at the feet of their- his- _the_ victim, looking curiously at the soles of the deceased woman’s shoes.

 

“Hello Jack!” she’d spotted him from across the muddy lawn and he crossed it to meet her, “I’m glad you’re here, this is Maggie Hannigan. I was supposed to meet with her this morning, but when I arrived…”

 

“Did you find her?”

 

“No,” Phryne shook her head, “Her brother found her.”

 

She looked up and indicated a man by a far off tree, pacing and smoking. He was dressed impeccably, with slick hair and shiny shoes. Though the effect of it was ruined if you looked closer and noticed his hair had fallen out of place and required to be brushed back every few moments to keep it out of the man’s eyes. His tie and shirt were crumpled, and the shoes that shined so brilliantly were caked with wet mud. As Jack watched, the still pacing Mr Hannigan finished his cigarette and stubbed it out with his foot against a tree root before quickly pulling out another and lighting it.

 

Jack turned back to the victim, standing over the body to look for a cause of death. He saw no blood, no bullet holes or stab wounds. Her body was crumpled, but not in a way that indicated a fall from any greater height than standing. Her neck wasn’t visibly broken, her skin was unmarked. He had no idea how this woman had died, and said as much.

 

“Her scarf,” Phryne murmured, and she reached out a hand to pull it out of the way. From her place balancing on her toes at the victim’s feet however, Phryne wobbled. Wildly trying to avoid putting her white gloved hand into the muddy grass, or falling into completely, she reached for Jack and grabbed at his overcoat, yanking desperately to catch herself.

 

He jolted, but took her hand for support until Phryne regained her balance and stood.

 

“Thank you,” she told him, then looked down at their fingers and let go of his hand quickly.

 

Reflexively Jack stuffed his hands firmly into his pockets.

 

“As I was saying,” Phryne continued as though nothing had happened, and she stepped carefully around the body, moving to the victims head, “Her scarf, it’s covering marks I believe rather resemble someone’s fingers.”

 

Jack crouched and looked, “So she was strangled.”

 

“Yes. A rather difficult thing to do by bare hand, I’m led to believe.”

 

Jack nodded, “But completely possible, if you have the strength.”

 

He stood and looked around. Constable Collins was standing some feet away, taking notes of Miss Fisher’s observations in his notebook. Mr Hannigan was still chain smoking by the tree, occasionally shooting looks over at his sister’s body and paling.

 

“I suppose we had better question her brother.” Jack said, and he walked across the lawn to introduce himself.

 

Mr Augustus Hannigan led the DI, his constable, and the lady detective across the gardens and to the large house. They all wiped their shoes on the mat by the door and stepped inside, still leaving wet footprints on the carpet as they went.

 

Once they reached the parlour Mr Hannigan sat in an old armchair, probably belonging to his father, and perhaps even his father before him. Jack sat opposite him, and Phryne perched herself on the arm of his chair, before thinking better of it and moving to lean against the side of the piano instead. Hugh stood to one side, waiting to continue his note taking.

 

“Mr Hannigan,” Jack started, “Miss Fisher informs me you found the body, what time was that?”

 

Mr Hannigan shook slightly, “About an hour ago,” he murmured, looking over to Phryne hoping for her confirmation, “She hadn’t been at breakfast and I couldn’t find her in her rooms, I’d wondered if she’d gone to my old studio. She’s recently taken to painting.”

 

“So you were outside looking for her?”

 

“That’s right.” The man nodded, taking another puff of his gasper, “I caught sight of her in the grass and ran immediately over to see what was the matter. Then I heard Miss Fisher’s car arriving and I yelled out for assistance, she came over and so did the housemaid. Miss Fisher sent her away to call you and she asked me to step aside, and then we waited.”

 

Jack nodded, “When was the last time you saw your sister?”

 

“Last night. She retired to the library to read after our dinner, and I came here and listened to the wireless before I moved upstairs. We passed in the hallway, said goodnight.”

 

“What time was that?”

 

“Around nine, I’d say. I can’t be certain.”

 

Phryne chose this moment to cut in with her own questions, taking, as usual, some sort of charge of the interview. She then ordered Hugh to talk to the household staff while she and Jack returned to the body.

 

“I don’t believe that man for a second, Jack.” She said, wobbling as the heels of her shoes sank into the grass.

 

Automatically Jack reached out to steady her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. Phryne gave him a look, and remembering himself he pulled away, offering simply his elbow for her to grasp onto instead.

 

“And why is that, Miss Fisher?”

 

“Well,” she began, “his knees. Did you notice?”

 

“Notice what?”

 

“They were perfectly clean! Look at all this; it’s been raining every few hours since yesterday morning, this entire lawn is mud and grass and he had none of it on his person, excluding his shoes of course. But if he had fallen to his sister’s side in an attempt to rouse her, his trousers would be filthy with all this muck.”

 

Jack considered this, looking at the mud on either side of the body and realising that she was of course, right.

 

He placed Constable Collins in charge of overseeing the removal of the body to the morgue, and left in his police vehicle. Phryne climbed into her Hispano and followed him back to City South, or rather; she followed behind him at the hideously slow speed limit, then turned off at the closest available alternative route, and beat him back to the station.

 

Jack entered the station and walked through to his office, hat in hand to find her sitting in his chair, her feet propped on the corner of the desk. He blinked, but wasn’t overall surprised, even if she had taken the longer way between the victim’s house and City South. Her driving left, in Jack’s opinion, an awful lot to be desired.

 

The investigation ran smoothly and quickly, and by the end of the day Jack had arrested Mr Hamilton himself for the murder of his sister.

 

He had not discovered his sister as he had claimed, but rather he had been on his way to dispose of the body when he’d heard Phryne’s car in the drive and in a panic dropped poor Maggie’s body and called for help. Phryne had immediately spotted the oddness of the situation. The crumpled position of Maggie, and the strange fear in Mr Hannigan’s tone; how it was only when the housemaid left to call the police that he seemed to show any emotion.

 

And of course there had been the mud, or lack of it, both on his trousers and hands, but on Maggie’s shoes. She had not walked outside of her own accord.

 

Mr Hannigan confessed when confronted in an interrogation, but it wasn’t until Jack arrived at Phryne’s house that evening, that they discovered the motive.

 

Jack sat in Phryne’s parlour, and she handled him a drink, sitting opposite him as usual. In return he let her snatch away the file from his fingers. It was the full coroner’s report and Phryne read it quickly.

 

“She was pregnant?!”

 

“So it would seem.” Jack murmured, “And when I returned to the house to question the staff again a maid admitted to disturbing our victim and some male company at a dinner party.”

 

“A business partner?”

 

“Yes, though not for much longer. Miss Hannigan and Mr Logan were planning to elope, and move away from her brother’s business to start their own. So Hannigan killed her, probably would have killed Logan too if you’d not interrupted him.”

 

Phryne sighed, “How sad.”

 

Jack nodded.

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Phryne finished her drink and moved from her armchair to join Jack on the chaise, curling her slim form easily and intimately into his side. He moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders and hold her close, but Phryne could feel him tense at her touch. She tilted her head up to look at him questioningly.

 

“Phryne I-” he stopped, unsure of what to say exactly, and instead forced himself to relax at her side.

 

“It’s all right Jack, I don’t expect to take you to my bed tonight.”

 

Relief flooded through him.

 

“Of course I’d like to be able to, but I understand we need to establish ourselves, without being blinded by lust.”

 

He nodded, “Thank you,” and they returned to silence, simply enjoying the other’s company. Phryne felt herself begin to doze in Jack’s arms. He was entirely too comfortable.

 

“My Aunt is planning a trip,” she murmured, her voice low, “for Christmas in July. We’re going skiing.”

 

Jack remained silent, so she continued, “You could join us. It’s sure to be fun, Jack. And it would be a chance for us to see each other away from work and investigations and,” she wrinkled her nose slightly, “professionalism.”

 

“Are you sure I’d be welcome?”

 

“Of course, you’d be my guest. I really would enjoy the experience a whole lot more if you were there with me.”

 

“And your aunt?”

 

“What about her?”

 

“She will be there?”

 

Phryne nodded, “Yes, of course.”

 

“Then, I think perhaps it may be best if I do not attend, Miss Fisher.”

 

She looked up, “Jack?”

 

He met her gaze and kissed her softly in apology. “Phryne,”

 

“Are you scared of my aunt?”

 

“Scared? No. Intimidated? ...Perhaps. She clearly doesn’t approve of my presence in your life; I hardly imagine she’d be pleased if I were to join you on a family holiday.”

 

“But you are family Jack, at least, to me.” She sighed, “I don’t mind side stepping Aunt P’s comments, Jack. She’ll have to find out sooner or later that her opinion of you will in no way change my feelings, or my actions toward you; not in the slightest.”

 

Jack smiled, “Your actions toward me?”

 

“Yes,” Phryne straightened, sitting away from Jack but sliding a hand over his thigh, stopping at his knee where she left it to rest. “My actions; including but not at all limited too, goodnight kisses against my front door and curling up together in my parlour with a drink. Also available on the list is a standing invitation to my boudoir, and the chance to step out with me whenever most suits us.”

 

He covered her hand in his and squeezed.

 

“Will you come then?” Phryne asked again,

 

“I can’t.” He squeezed her hand again, “Getting the leave in time would be impossible for one thing, and like you say Phryne. We need to establish ourselves, and I do not believe we would be able to effectively do that under your aunt’s watchful eye.”

 

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, “My apologies.”

 

Phryne was disappointed, but not altogether surprised. She sighed and curled herself back into Jack’s side, tucking her head against his chest and closing her eyes. His arm moved around her once more and she hummed happily, breathing deeply.

 

“Have I ever told you,” she wondered, changing the subject, “How absolutely _wonderful_ you smell?”

 

Jack chuckled, and the vibrations of it running through his chest into her head made Phryne laugh too, until she sat up and kissed him. He fell silent under her lips, but held her close, letting her take charge. Briefly Jack wondered if her kisses would always make his head spin, and he hoped so. He hoped he would never tire of the feel of her mouth against his; her tongue, her teeth, her hands in his hair.

 

She moaned, and the sound was almost his undoing, but then she pulled sharply back, panting, her eyes burning in a wanton fire of lust. He stared up at her, his lips pleasantly tingling.

 

“Phryne?” he asked, reaching up a hand to brush through her hair and smooth back some of the stray locks.

 

She smiled, her gaze dropping as her chest continued to heave with each deep breath.

 

“You should probably,” she said, “consider leaving.”

 

Jack frowned and she rushed to explain, taking his hands in hers.

 

“I find myself... lustfully compromised, Jack. And if we are to court each other slowly... Then I think it’s safest if you went now. Before I lose my head too completely and come undone in your lap.”

 

Jack nodded.

 

Phryne slipped from the chaise to stand and walked slowly with Jack to her front door. She opened it as he pulled on his coat and hat, and he stepped forward, pausing slightly next to her and looking down into her ducked face.

 

“Phryne,” he murmured.

 

She looked up, eyes still dark and dangerous, but she allowed him to kiss her, a hand at her cheek. It wasn’t brief. But it wasn’t lustful either. She forced herself to give him total control, to simply be kissed, and found the sensation rather pleasing. She smiled into his lips and he pulled away slowly, not letting go over her face.

 

“Goodnight,” he whispered.

 

Phryne bit her lip, eyeing him from beneath her lashes as she licked the faintest trace of him from her lips. “Goodnight, Jack.”

 

“Goodnight.”

 

She smiled, and slowly Jack’s hand slipped from her face as he forced himself to turn and step away. Phryne stepped back and closed the door after him, but watched through the stained glass panel on either side as he walked down the path and stepped into his car.

 

And so continued the next few weeks. Jack and Phryne would have an evening planned together once, if not twice each week. They would dine or dance or see a picture together and each time either he would return her to her residence, arm in arm, or she would lead him from her parlour to the door hand in hand, and they would kiss. Sometimes sweetly, sometimes passionately, but always they would kiss goodnight, and then part to separate ways.

 

In between these dates Jack worked as usual; sometimes with Phryne on the case, sometimes without. And likewise Phryne continued with her own work, murders with Jack, runaway children and adulterous spouses or missing jewels and all in between without him. When they were working they remained professional, and when they weren’t they still remained rather prudish by Phryne’s standards, and acceptably on the line between tame and daring by Jack’s.

 

They entered the month of July, and Phryne left with Dot, Mac and Aunt Prudence for their Christmas in July holiday. But instead of a joyful trip of skiing and singing carols by the fire, they found a murder, and by the end of the day, another, punctuated by the storm outside and loud ominous knocks on the front door.

 

Phryne went to answer it.

 

Thunder cracked as Phryne opened the door and to her surprise she found Jack and Hugh shaking in the wind and falling snow.

 

“Jack!” she exclaimed,

 

“Miss Fisher.”

 

She stared at them, “How nice of you to drop by.”

 

“Dot called.” Hugh explained, wincing in the cold. “May we come in?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Phryne stepped aside and Jack let Hugh step forward into the house before following him and closing the door behind them.

 

“They closed the roads behind us.” Hugh told Miss Fisher, removing his hat and sighing gratefully at the heat and shelter of the building.

 

“It looks like we’ll be here longer than planned.” Jack added.

 

Phryne nodded, letting Hugh walk ahead before she took Jack’s arm and stopped him.

 

“I’m glad you’re here Jack.” She murmured, “We’ve had a murder.”

 

“I know. Collins told me.”

 

“No, another one. We’ve only just found her; come, I’ll show you.”

 

And they fell into routine. Phryne led him to the crime scene, showed him the clues she had found. Jack questioned Vera’s husband, Nicholas. Then together with Dot and Hugh they discussed and theorised. Phryne had found further clues in the book used to tempt Vera to her death, and it was realised she had a lover. It was simple enough to presume the killer from there. Either Vera had been killed by her jealous husband, Nicholas, or her jealous lover, Quentin.

 

Power was lost to the storm shortly after, and by candlelight, Jack walked Phryne to her room to retire to bed. She opened the door, but turned back to Jack standing close by her side as he warned her to keep her door locked.

 

“But Jack,” she murmured in a low voice, unable to help herself from teasing him. “If I lock my door, nobody could get in.”

 

Jack didn’t miss the way her eyes dipped to his lips, and oh how he longed to kiss her goodnight. He knew better than to act on that wish, however. The hour was late and dangerous, and Phryne was testing him. He knew if he kissed her now, in flickering glow of their candles and the moon through her window he would be lost to her, so close to that all too tempting bed. Not the mention the fire hazard as they’d no doubt melt together, forgetting the flames.

 

“It’s too great a risk, Miss Fisher.” He murmured back to her, keeping her careful gaze, “Lock it tight. Goodnight.” And he walked away with Phryne smiling after him, oddly pleased by Jack’s show of restraint.

 

She closed the door and locked it behind her as requested, then dressed in her night clothes and slid into the bed. Blowing out the candle at her bedside she fell back into her pillows and fell asleep to the sweetest of dreams of Jack’s warm body above hers...

 

The next day brought more death and the gruesome reality of the situation into light. Nicholas was hidden away somewhere waiting to kill them all one by one as they sat trapped inside, with no way to seek help. The telephone wires cut and cars frozen over, they were sitting ducks in his twisted game.

 

But luckily Nicholas had not counted on Phryne and Jack, not just their abilities as detectives, but in their teamwork.

 

They escaped his trap and overpowered him. He admitted his crimes and was restrained and locked away until they had further options; Hugh and Jack taking turns to guard the door. The roads were still closed, fresh snow still falling outside. It was decided to stay another night, hopefully by the morrow the storm would have eased enough for the cars to run, and the roads to be cleared.

 

That night Phryne lay awake, she tossed and turned, unable to get her mind to switch off and settle into sleep, and after some hours she gave up. Sitting up in bed she turned on her bedside lamp, grateful the generator cancelled her need for a candle. After adjusting her eyes to the light she pulled a robe over her nightdress and unlocked her door.

 

She crept slowly down the corridor to Jack’s room, and was surprised to see light seeping through from the gap between the door and the floor. She knocked and almost immediately the door was pulled open revealing Jack, wearing his crème jumper over the top of his pyjamas.

 

“Phryne,” he murmured, “are you all right?”

 

She didn’t speak straight away, moving instead to step into his arms and rest her face against his neck, her arms winding around his waist.

 

“Can I stay here tonight, Jack?” she asked on a whisper, “I don’t think I can stand to be alone.”

 

“Of course.” He held her close. He hadn’t been looking forward to the night either, the taunting fear of nightmares dangling over him.

 

It was not lost on either of them that Phryne had almost been shot.

 

She held him tighter for a moment then pulled back, looking into Jack’s face. “Why are you awake?”

 

“I just got back from guarding Mortimer; I let Collins sleep first.”

 

Phryne nodded, and her arms slipped from his waist so as to untie her robe and discard it to the floor. Jack followed suit, removing his jumper as Phryne pulled back the bed sheets and slid into his bed, and he joined here there too, turning off the lamp before laying back into his pillow. Immediately she curled into his side, her face pillowed on his chest, listening to the soothing thump of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath.

 

Safe in the sanctuary of his arms Phryne broke the silence, whispering into the dark.

 

“Dot would have died today, for no other reason than that man’s amusement in the suffering of others.”

 

Jack didn’t speak, but held Phryne closer, waiting for her to continue.

 

“Aunt P, Mac, you and poor Hugh. You all would have died. Everyone I love, leaving poor Jane and Arthur behind.”

 

“But we didn’t.” Jack said firmly, “And tomorrow Mortimer will be arrested. He’ll pay for his crimes, Phryne. I’ll make sure of it.”

 

She nodded into his chest, then looked up and kissed him. It was soft and loving, with no intentions of leading to anything. When she pulled back she simply returned to her previous position, her fingers curling into the front of his pyjamas as he ran a hand along her back.

 

They didn’t speak again, there was no need, and within an hour the lovers were asleep, content and safe in the other’s arms.

 

When morning broke Phryne found herself draped across Jack’s chest. He ran his fingers calmly along the pale skin of her arm and she smiled, not opening her eyes. She knew he would ask her to return to her room before the others found her missing and panicked, but it was early, and she was so comfortable, so for the moment she stayed.

 

Eventually however, the peace had to be broken.

 

Jack shifted beneath her and she titled her head back to look at him expectantly.

 

“I should relieve Collins.” He said, “You should go back to you own bed, or else Miss Williams will worry.”

 

With a slight sigh Phryne nodded, “Yes, you’re probably right.” And knowing that Jack would sadly not appreciate an audience as he dressed for the day, she slipped from his warm bed into the cold air of the room, and pulled her robe on.

 

“We’ll be back in Melbourne soon.” Jack promised as he too rose from the bed.

 

“Yes,” Phryne smiled softly, “Jane is home. I think we might have our Christmas in July at my house tonight. We still have gifts to open, and Jane’s return to celebrate...”

 

Hearing her silent invitation plain as day Jack walked around the bed to meet her by the door. He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “I’ll be there.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She slipped from his arms and his room and padded barefoot back down the corridor to her own room. With no interest in lying between cold sheets she simply dressed for the day and waited for Dot.

 

The sun shone brightly against the snow outside, and to everyone’s relief the cars started easily. Jack and Hugh took statements from everybody, then escorted Nicholas to local police, while Dot, Mac, Phryne and the others packed away their belongings and loaded up their cars.

 

Silently Phryne thought as she drove the Hispano out of the drive, if she never returned to this place, it would be too soon.

 

They made good time to Melbourne, much to Dot and Aunt P’s displeasure, and arrived back at Phryne’s home in St Kilda to the warm welcome of Mr Butler and Jane. The moment the car came to a complete stop Phryne was jumping out from it, rushing across the garden to her daughter and pulling the girl into her arms.

 

“Jane,” she smiled. The girl’s presence was a beacon of light at the end of dark days just passed. She pressed a kiss to Jane’s forehead, leaving behind a perfect red lip print. “How are you?”

 

“Je suis magnifique! Et vous, comment ça va?”

 

“Parfait, maintenant je suis chez moi. Avec vous.” She hugged the girl again then stepped aside to allow Dot to take her place.

 

Slowly they all managed to move inside where Mr Butler supplied drinks and a late luncheon.

 

As day turned to evening Phryne welcomed guests in the form of Hugh, Jack, Bert and Cec; and together with Aunt P and Mac, the household- the group of friends- Phryne’s _family_ all dined together for a Christmas in July feast. The house had been decorated the previous day, and Jane rushed about the table, changing seats excitedly as she retailed the adventures from her trip to the continent, and soaked up stories of the adventures had at home too.

 

After dinner the party moved into the parlour and Phryne sat laughing with Mac as Jane acquired mistletoe from god only knows where and rushed into the room. She moved straight to Hugh and Dot, standing together by the fireplace, and stood on tip toe in an attempt to hold the mistletoe above their heads.

 

“Kiss, kiss!” she enthused, and the couple kissed sweetly to the cheers of the room.

 

Standing Phryne pulled her young daughter into a hug, still so joyed to have her home once more. “Dear Jane,” she said happily, “It’s so lovely to have you back.”

 

Mr Butler entered with a tray of drinks, offering one in turn to Aunt Prudence, Bert and Cec. Phryne caught sight of the last two drinks on the tray and smiled, taking them both with a grateful smile. She crossed the room to the piano, where Jack stood alone.

 

He accepted the drink easily, and didn’t say a word as Phryne took place next to him, leaning into his side slightly as they watched Jane hold the mistletoe over her aunt and Bert.

 

Jack snorted as Phryne laughed and the room watched keenly. Bert grinned as Aunt P stared up at the mistletoe aghast, but the man tapped his cheek with a finger and bent down low. So with great reluctance Prudence Stanley tilted her head up and briefly pecked the man’s cheek.

 

The guests cheered and Phryne laughed at Jack’s side, turning to comment amusedly to the Inspector, unaware her daughter had spotted them. The young girl’s eyes alight she climbed to stand in the chair by Phryne’s other side and held out the mistletoe proudly over her head.

 

“Miss Fisher and the Inspector!” Jane announced with a smile,

 

Mac smirked knowingly, as the guest turned their attention to their host. Aunt P frowned in distaste.

 

“Ah.” Phryne murmured awkwardly, looking up to the plant in Jane’s hand before defending herself to the room, “I’m not sure my kisses can be compelled by sprigs of parasitic greenery.”

 

She looked at Jack for confirmation; sure he wouldn’t like such a public display of affection in front of an audience including his Constable and her opinionated aunt.

 

He met her gaze and spoke only to correct her, his voice low and gorgeous, “Hemiparasitic,” Phryne felt herself shift closer, spectators of this moment forgotten as she lost herself to the sound of Jack’s voice. “Of the genus viscum,”

 

“I’ll take your word for it.”

 

Across the room Bert chuckled, and Mrs Stanley gaped, rushing to interrupt the intimate nature of her niece’s stance, “I think it’s time for another song!” she decided loudly.

 

“Come on Cec, Deck the Halls!” Jane suggested, she lowered the mistletoe and fiddled with it between her fingers, casting Phryne a nervous glance as the woman avoided the gazes of all in the room.

 

Cec began to sing, and the other joined in quickly. Jane hoped, as she saw her aunt’s reproachful glance to Miss Phryne and the Inspector, that she hadn’t just spoilt things. She had been hoping the two might grow closer while she had been away, but seeing the way Mrs Stanley disapproved she wondered if maybe she’d just put the two in some kind of trouble instead.

 

When the song came to an end every one stepped forward and raised their drinks, toasting a Merry Christmas.

 

///

 

Phryne turned away from her front door as it closed behind Mac, Cec and Bert to see Jack leaning against the doorframe of her parlour. She smiled, walking forward until she stood just on the edge of what her aunt might consider proper. But then again, her aunt was no longer in the parlour, she had retired to one of Phryne’s various spare bedrooms half an hour ago, ordering Jane up ahead of her as she went.

 

Peering over Jack’s shoulder into the parlour Phryne saw only Dot and Hugh, sitting in the arm chairs by the piano, and Mr Butler collecting empty glasses onto a tray.

 

Knowing the young couple were engaged enough with each other to have no notice spared for Jack, Phryne stepped closer, her hand reaching up to rest over his chest. The tips of her fingers played over his tie, red and gold to match her dress. She smiled.

 

“It would seem,” Jack murmured, “That the party is over.”

 

“Yes, I suppose so.” She agreed, titling her head to watch him curiously.

 

“I should consider making my leave.”

 

Phryne pouted, “Well I don’t think much of that.” She said simply, “Wouldn’t you rather find a secluded corner to-”

 

“Miss Fisher!” Hugh cut over her words And Phryne jumped back in surprise, “Thank you for a lovely evening, I really should be heading home.”

 

“Oh, of course. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

 

“Merry Christmas in July,” he smiled, daring to lean in and kiss her cheek.

 

Phryne smiled and kissed his in return. “Merry Christmas in July, Hugh.”

 

She watched as Hugh collected his hat and coat and bade his goodbyes to Dot, giving her a sweet kiss at the door before turning and leaving. Dot blushed happily as the door shut.

 

“I’m going to make some cocoa, for bed.” She said, “Would you like some, Miss, Inspector?”

 

Phryne spoke over the top of Jack’s ‘no’ with a grin, “Yes Dot, we’d love some. Thank you.”

 

Dot smiled and left for the kitchen leaving Jack to glare half heartedly at Phryne. She raised her eyebrows in innocence, then smiled and reached for his arm.

 

“Come now, Inspector,” she said, leading him into the parlour to her chaise, “Why don’t we sit here while Dot makes our cocoa.”

 

“Phryne,” He sighed, sitting obediently, “I thought we had an understanding that we were going to take these things... slowly.”

 

Phryne nodded, “Of course. But you must know that this has already been progressing much slower than any other man I’ve pursued. Not that I want you to think you are just another lover of mine, darling. You are much more than that.”

 

“Phryne,” Jack said, shifting in his seat. Phryne smiled, stilling him with a hand to his thigh.

 

“You _are_ much more than that Jack.” She repeated, “But I do not believe I’ve ever gone quite this long without some sort of... intimacies, and I long to solve that with you.”

 

“Phryne...” His voice was low and raspy, like he couldn’t quite find his breath and Phryne smiled, running her hand soothingly over his leg.

 

“But if you are still not quite ready to take that step then I don’t want you to worry. I _can_ wait, I promise you that. I have no desire to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

 

“ _Phryne_ ,”

 

She looked at him, “Jack?”

 

“I- I do want that. To,” he struggled, taking her hand and holding it firmly, “make love to you. But I need you to understand, it’s been a great number of years, since I’ve lain with another. I’m not sure I would be, up to your usual.... expectations.”

 

She gaped at him in surprise, “Oh Jack.” She whispered, melting into his side and lifting her free hand to his face, stroking his cheek, “We can learn together.”

 

She kissed him and he let her, slowly relaxing under her touch until he was kissing back, grasping her waist with his hand and wondering if perhaps they could begin to learn each other tonight. A small squeak at the door interrupted them however, and they drew away from their kiss to see Dot in the doorway, holding two mugs of steaming cocoa.

 

“Ah Dot,” Phryne reached out to accept her mug; she blew over the top and sipped the drink to find it warmed to perfect drinking temperature, “Lovely, thank you.”

 

Jack took his cup too, with a silent nod and the girl blushed.

 

“Goodnight Miss. Inspector.”

 

“Goodnight Dot,” Phryne smiled.

 

“Miss Williams.”

 

Dorothy left, returning to the kitchen for her own cocoa before moving up the back stairs to her room. In the parlour Phryne just smiled into her mug, trying not to laugh as she drank.

 

They sat in silence as they enjoyed the cocoa, then when they were finished Phryne took the mugs set them aside on a shelf of the bookcase behind them. She took Jack’s hand.

 

“Will you make love to me tonight?” she asked softly,

 

Jack looked at her, and she watched his chest rise and fall with his slow deep breaths.

 

“I think,” he murmured, “that perhaps I might.”

 

Her eyes flicked to his in surprise, and he met her gaze with a smirk.

 

“Very well then, Inspector.” She murmured, standing and pulling him up with her, “In that case I believe a change of location is in order.”

 

Turning off the lights as she went Phryne led Jack through her house and up to her boudoir. They stepped into the room and Jack paused. The painting he had once returned to Phryne in her parlour, before their relationship had progressed, before he had come to terms with his feelings, before even his divorce –though not before he first kissed her, he remembered- was proudly displayed on the wall.

 

He had blushed at the sight of it then, so many months ago, and he blushed again seeing it now. Phryne held back a small laugh.

 

“You never said, Jack. What do you think of it?”

 

“You look young.”

 

“I was young.” She took his hand, “But you’re blushing Jack. Again. So tell me, what do you think?”

 

Jack dropped his gaze from the painting to face the woman instead, “Well,” he murmured, “I can hardly compare until I see the real thing.”

 

Phryne laughed at that. Happily and freely, until an idea struck her and she moved Jack to take a seat at her vanity, facing the bed.

 

“Don’t speak or move,” she said, “Until I say.”

 

And without waiting for an answer she moved away, pulling her jewellery and accessories away and placing them on the vanity before disappearing behind her dressing screen. She made a show of hanging the golden dress over the top of the screen, and following it with her under clothes and Jack squirmed in his chair, unable to stop himself imagining her bare flesh hidden away from view.

 

She poked her head around the side of the screen, giving Jack a glimpse of her bare shoulder.

 

“Close your eyes Jack.” She murmured, “And no peeking.”

 

Jack did as he was asked, shutting his eyes and obediently keeping them shut. Even as he heard Phryne step out from behind the screen and pad softly across the carpet to her bed.

 

He heard the rustling of bed sheets and pillows until finally Phryne spoke. “You can open your eyes.”

 

He did so.

 

She lay across the top of the bed, her pale form splayed over the sheets, her head tilted back and one arm tucked by her side. The other was in place behind her head as she posed for him, every inch a recreation of her painting, minus, Jack noticed, the blue robe.

 

“Phryne,” he breathed,

 

“Yes?”

 

“I... May I stand?”

 

“Yes, Jack.”

 

He stood and moved slowly closer to the bed. Looking at her everywhere, trying to watch all of her at once as he took note of little parts of her that completely enraptured his attentions. The dusky pink colour of her nipples. The dip of pale skin as her abdomen met her pelvis. Her collarbones, and the sharp edges of her jaw.

 

“The painting is beautiful, of course, but you Phryne, you are like nothing I’ve seen before. Exquisite beauty, so raw and powerful in your confidence...” He licked his lips, “I can’t think of anything I’d rather see.”

 

She smiled at him then held out her hand in invitation. He took it easily and she sat up, pulling at his arm until he climbed onto the bed and she climbed into his lap.

 

“Phryne,” he choked, and she smiled, her fingers pulling at his tie until it was loose around his neck and she pulled it away.

 

She stripped him slowly from there. Listening as he groaned, as he begged. Each item fell away with practised ease until Jack stood from the bed to step from his shoes and pull away his socks. Phryne took joy in unbuttoning the front of his trousers, hearing him swear as his hands made a wild swing until they grasped painfully at her shoulders for balance.

 

She chuckled, looking up at him with a sparkle in her eye. Her hands pushed his trousers down his legs until they reached his ankles and she set her sights on his tie-string boxer shorts.

 

“You know,” she said, her fingers coming to rest on the knot holding up the last of his clothing, “They make rubber banded shorts now. Elasticised waistline for comfort and... Easy access.”

 

Jack could only nod silently, swallowing thickly as the knot came loose and his shorts began to make the journey down his legs to follow his trousers. He closed his eyes, standing naked before her, and waited to follow her cue.

 

“Oh Jack,” she sighed, her hands on his bare hips, running slowly down his thighs, then up the sensitive backs of his legs to his buttocks. “You are beautiful.”

 

He looked down at her in surprise and shyly she smiled, raising a hand from his backside to grasp at the back of his neck and pull him down to kiss her. He moaned, and slowly stepped from the fabric around his ankles to climb once more onto her bed, this time on top of her, laying her out against the pillows, his mouth over hers, their bodies moulded together.

 

She held him close and gave him the control he needed. He led their actions, kissing her face her neck, her breasts. He let her touch him and in return he touched her, hands sliding over legs, across stomachs, between thighs. Whispers and gasps filled the air. A curse followed by a song, his name on her lips, hers on his.

 

She cradled his hips between her legs, and he pushed forward into her body. She cried in joy and he fought back tears.

 

Thrusts were long and slow, and her thighs wrapped around his waist, heels pressed into his buttocks until in a blink he moved faster and faster, holding her tighter and closer and kissing her harder. She shattered in his arms and he pressed on until climax seized him, a great tug of pleasure in his groin as he lost himself in her, a blow to the chest as his breath was stolen from his lungs. He fell forward into her waiting arms and she curled herself around him, cradling him or clinging to him he wasn’t sure. Their panting breath and beating hearts the only sounds in the room Jack fell asleep.

 

He woke some time later to find he still lay on top of Phryne. She smirked as he apologised, but once he shifted away from her she stretched, her body contorting and flexing like a cats as she let out an involuntary groan.

 

Jack sat up, and then stood and Phryne frowned, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him.

 

“You’re not planning an escape out the window I hope,” she murmured tiredly.

 

To her relief Jack grinned, amused by her teasing, “No. I simply thought it would be a better idea if we were to move ourselves under the covers of your bed. Before we freeze.”

 

Phryne laughed and agreed, slipping too from the bed to turn out the lights and pull back the sheets before climbing inside.

 

Jack joined her and reached for her instantly, pulling her into his arms and bringing his mouth to hers. She smiled, kissing back happily.

 

“Again all ready, Jack?” she teased.

 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Perhaps in the morning.” He murmured, “Though I need to leave early. I’ll have to get a change of clothes from my house before I go to the station.”

 

Phryne nodded with a sly smile, her eyes closing tiredly. She sighed softly, her body falling slack in his arms. With some effort she ordered her brain to open her mouth, and her words came heavily with will to sleep, but so very sincerely.

 

“I love you, Jack Robinson.”

 

Jack smiled, and his lips pressed the lightest of kisses to her fringe as, before he could even try and speak, he fell back into sleep.

 

The next morning Phryne woke much in the way she had the day previous, draped across Jack’s chest, though this time with the improvement of his naked chest beneath her fingers, and her naked legs entwined with his. She smiled to herself.

 

Jack snored and slept on as Phryne blinked into wakefulness, watching Dot as the woman went through her usual morning duties of opening the curtains and bringing in a tray of coffee for her mistress. Today however, the tray she set by Phryne’s bedside – very carefully not looking at the bed, an art she’d trained herself in shortly after coming into Phryne’s employ- did not have coffee. It was instead a pot of tea next to two china cups and a small jug of milk.

 

“Thank you Dot,” Phryne murmured softly, smiling fondly at the girl from her place against Jack’s chest. “And would you tell Mr Butler that the Inspector and I will be breakfasting in bed this morning.”

 

“Anything else, Miss?”

 

“No, except... Don’t mention to my aunt that Jack is still here, if you can help it.”

 

Dot nodded and left.

 

Phryne rolled from Jack’s chest to lie next to him and stretch, he stirred and she smiled, waking him with a kiss.

 

“Good morning.”

 

“Phryne,” he smiled and she kissed him again, “Good morning.”

 

“Sleep well?” she asked innocently, and Jack grinned, winding his arms around her until she was pulled to lie atop him.

 

“Better than I have in years.”

 

Phryne drew a pattern lazily across his chest with her finger tip, “Sweet dreams?”

 

“The sweetest,” he smirked, and to Phryne’s surprise he pinched her backside.

 

“ _Jack!_ ”

 

“Miss Fisher?”

 

She grinned, kissing him until they were both breathless, “I do hope you have time for the morning you promised me.”

 

But then the door opened and Mr Butler walked in, followed by Dot, each with a breakfast tray in hand. Phryne sighed and Jack closed his eyes, not used to having staff walk through a room while he lay in bed. Naked. With an equally naked Phryne lying breathless on top of him.

 

The trays set on each of the bedside tables Jack and Phryne were left alone once more, and Phryne was first to recover. She sat up, pushing the blankets back and revealing her nakedness to him as she sat in his lap, then reached for the tray closest. She fed him happily, until he too recovered enough to request she move aside and allowed him to sit up in bed as well.

 

After they finished their breakfast and their tea Jack stood and began to dress in his clothes from the previous night as Phryne watched from the bed. She pouted at him, tucking her knees up and resting her chin on them.

 

“Will you come to dinner tonight Jack?”

 

“I need to return home some time, Miss Fisher.” He smiled, buttoning his trousers and tucking in his undershirt, “My housekeeper will find it suspicious if I miss a fourth night in a row.”

 

He continued to dress, until finally he sat on the end of the bed to pull on his socks and shoes. Phryne nudged him form under the covers with her foot.

 

“Do I at least get a goodbye kiss?” she asked innocently,

 

He chuckled, taking hold of her foot from over the bed sheets, “If you get out of this bed.” He told her.

 

With that he stood and began to make his way to the door. Phryne grinned, climbing from the bed herself, wrapping the blankets around her naked form as she padded over to Jack at the open door.

 

“Goodbye, Inspector.” She said,

 

“Miss Fisher.”

 

Phryne reached a hand out from under the bed covers, reaching for Jack’s face and pulling him in for a long and slow kiss. He pulled back slightly, only to kiss his way along her jaw, the stubble on his chin scratching at her cheek. She closed her eyes and hummed happily, then near melted at his feet as he murmured against her ear in a low voice.

 

“I love you, Phryne.”

 

“Jack,” she sighed, turning her head to kiss him again, and mumble a whisper against his lips, “I love you too.”

 

He smiled and stepped back, straightening his jacket and giving her a last smile and a nod before turning and walking almost directly into Aunt Prudence, who stood dressed in a robe in the doorway of her guest bedroom.

 

She gaped at him, affronted by the scene she’d just been witness to, and Jack simply smiled, saying, “Good morning, Mrs Stanley,” and continuing on his way.

 

“Phryne!” Aunt Prudence exclaimed once Jack had retreated out of sight, and she turned to her niece draped against the door frame wearing only bed covers.

 

“Oh,” Phryne smiled, “Good morning, Aunt P. Did you sleep well?”


End file.
